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Tuesday, 1 July 2014

Books - The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson

Published
in 2009 and translated from Swedish into English in 2012, this is a book
everyone seems to be talking about. I heard people mention it long before I
read it, although as it happens what I picked up from other people was only the
book’s name, and not a smidge of what it’s actually about. So I was rather
surprised to find myself reading something that seems a cross between a history
of twentieth century world politics, a black comedy, an adventure novel, a
crime drama, and a Wes Anderson film.

This
novel is very, very strange. In a good way. I think.

Allan
Karlsson climbs out of his care home window on the day of his one hundredth
birthday, and takes a bus as far as his money will take him. Several pages
later he ends up on the run from the police alongside a petty thief, an eternal
student turned hotdog stand owner, a red-haired woman who constantly swears,
and a dog. Oh, and an elephant. Then, because this turn of events is of course
not nearly bizarre enough for this strange novel, we simultaneously learn about
Allan’s long and astounding life as an explosives expert, prisoner, spy, interpreter,
general world traveller, and charmer of several historical figures.

Along
his travels Allan meets and befriends (or otherwise) anyone and everyone from
Franco to Harry Truman to Stalin. I love these interactions with twentieth century history,
however much they may blur fact and fiction. I like the wonderful randomness of
Allan’s life. Jonasson uses historical irony wonderfully, my favourite example
being that, in the 1950s, Cuba is said by all to be the least likely country in
the world to go communist any time soon. I enjoy how Allan’s adventures span
the whole world as well, with chapters taking place in Sweden, the USA, China, Iran, Indonesia, Russia, France, Spain, and various others countries. And
whether or not you’re familiar enough with the twentieth century history of the
world to appreciate all the historical ironies (I did draw some blanks), the
history plot line remains interesting and funny throughout.

The
book’s humour is immense. Jonasson certainly knows how to use irony and black
comedy. By perusing a constantly light tone, and using brilliant comic timing
and coincidence, the novel ends up being funny throughout – even when it maybe
shouldn’t be. I like that we see from multiple perspectives throughout the
novel, always knowing more than any one character does. This too is put to good
comic use. The characters are also entertaining. I like Allan’s utter dismissal
of politics, and Benny’s series of almost-completed degrees. We’re presented
with a various unlikely images: the born again fraudster, the criminal for whom
paradise is simply cocktails on the beach with a parasol, an agile and cunning
centenarian – and an elephant on a bus. To me it’s the novel’s very
ridiculousness that makes it so funny. It’s entirely unrealistic, and this anything
can happen. But pushing the boundaries of plot, Jonasson creates a bizarre,
impossible and brilliant story.

Yet
there was something a tiny bit unsettling in terms of the book’s consistently
light tone. I jotted down while reading it that the book to me lacks emotional
depth. I stand by this point, but I’m not sure it’s really a criticism anymore.
We never really see inside any of the characters’ minds, certainly never with
any depth. The characters are funny, but not exactly psychologically complex.
Ultimately, the book just wouldn’t work if they all just suddenly stopped to reflect upon how their consciences were dealing with their morally dubious actions. And yet I found it slightly odd that no one in the
book seemed to really have a conscience at all. I didn’t feel emotionally
attached to any of the characters. They’re funny, they’re interesting – but
they don’t seem quite human.

But
perhaps that’s not a problem. After all, the plot isn’t realistic, so maybe the
characters don’t need to be either. I figure you always need to judge different
novels by different standards, depending on their aims, their tone, etc. And as
a huge Dickens fan I can’t really complain about novels with a few ridiculous
characters or plot points...

Still,
it did take me a little while to get into this book. I was hooked by about half
way through, but not really until then. I tend to read novels that are more
character-driven than plot-driven, so maybe that was part of it. Moreover, while
the novel’s sheer strangeness is probably one of its greatest strengths, it can
make it a bit alienating and confusing at the beginning. There are also quite a
lot of characters to keep track of, most of whose names seem to begin with B
(it took me a while to get around the fact that The Boss and Bosse weren’t the
same person, although I suppose that’s a coincidence of translation). But if
you for a moment think of putting the book down, then don’t: it’s well worth
perusing.

The
Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared is, as its title suggests, by no
means an ordinary book. It’s bizarre, surreal and often ridiculous, but I think
that’s just the point. Besides, it’s also original, comic, fascinating – and,
most importantly perhaps, great fun. Well worth a read.

Oh, and I’m rather
excited to see the film, which happens to come out this Friday in the UK:

Greatest
strength: Probably
the novel’s astoundingly bizarre plot.

Greatest
weakness: I did
find it a bit slow going at first. It took me a while to get into.

Let’s
finish on a quote:‘Three hours later the two men were calling each other Harry and Allan, which goes
to show what a couple of bottles of tequila can do for international relations’

Next
week:Sense and Sensibility (the new, updated,
version) by Joanna Trollope